It’s a cliché, I know. It gets said by so many people so many times. But that’s not going to stop me from saying it, too. Family is the most important thing in my life.

I learned very early on to appreciate family. There were always family birthday parties for me, my brother, and my cousins (and I had plenty of cousins — my mom is the oldest of 7 children; my dad is the oldest of 3). We always spent Christmas eve with my mom’s family and Christmas day with my dad’s family. We would visit my grandparents and my aunts and uncles regularly. And I loved every moment of it.

My husband comes from a large extended family as well, and he is pretty close to them, too, so marrying him was a good choice! And he is fairly close with his extended family as well.

My daughter has grown up being around her extended family, too. She has the same deep-rooted love of family that I do. She enjoys visiting all her extended family the same way I did as a kid and the way I still do.

I am probably loyal to a fault with my family. With only a very, very few exceptions, I love my extended family no matter what. Somehow I manage to overlook any of their faults, and I am fortunate that they seem to overlook mine, too. It doesn’t matter how old we are or how near or far we are, my family sticks together.